Long overdue is literal and figurative. I've been meaning to make a contribution for some time and today, thanks to a delayed flight, here it is.

Several years ago I went abroad to study. The initial transition was somewhat stressful - different place, different language, different family and so on. While exciting, it was sometimes overwhelming.

That summer I had met and dated someone through an online dating service. She was considerably older than me (seven years) and I also learned considerably from her. Carol was very open and expressive when it came to intimacy. She seemed to embrace her role as an older woman mentor, leading me to new and intense experiences. I knew things would be very different the first time she gave me a handjob - for minutes afterwards, she ran her fingertips through the puddles of semen, looking on with an expression of both fascination and arousal.

Carol was very good at immersing herself in the moment. I do not ever recall her asking me to hold back or change our rhythm. She simply enjoyed the intimacy and, as a result, I did much more as well. I became more self-confident in bed and strove to return the favor and learn more about what she liked - which was nearly everything! She said I had the perfect size for her - filling her vagina yet still allowing for pleasurable anal sex. Remarkably, she not only asked me if I had ever had anal sex, but encouraged me to try it. In all honesty, I was a little nervous and her reassurance led to a wonderful experience. It was my first time in that department and to release my fluid inside her free of any pregnancy concerns ranked among the most blissful and satisfying orgasms I have ever had.

Soon afterward I left, though we still remained in touch. Not only was the transition sometimes stressful, but I was no longer with Carol. Passionate and wonderful sex was suddenly absent. In fact, I didn't even masturbate for some time. I was often too tired, too cold and too stressed by the time I got back to my host family's home. This went on for several days and I began to feel a steadily increasing level of basal arousal. The was only exacerbated by the composition of an erotic letter to Carol. We were in the midst of some lecture and I began writing to her, detailing the things that I would like to do if I had her there - tracing the lines of her short body with my fingers, closing her eyes and letting her sink into a world of my caresses and kisses, steadily elevating the pressure in certain areas, gently but purposely brushing others, distracting her senses with one hand while the other disrobed her, feeling her wet arousal in the subtle rocking of her hips - and on it went.

Soon I had nearly lost any awareness of the outside, submerging myself in a written fantasy that was leaving a remarkable amount of pressure in my throbbing groin. Unable to address the immediate concern, I sealed and stamped the letter. For some reason, I had the urge to lift the paper to my nose, thinking / believing that it radiated an effluvium of sex.

Unfortunately, conventional mail between our countries was slow. It would take 8-10 days for her to receive it, though I could not restrain myself from hinting at its content during one of our phone calls. Later on she told me that upon receiving it, she took it to her room and locked the door so as to completely enjoy the content. Some time later I was able re-live this experience as I whispered unmentionable things in her ear while she masturbated.

But that is for another posting and this one is about masturbation. Between the letter and going nearly ten days without masturbation I was very near to popping. I thought about ejaculation constantly. Dreamed about it. Daydreamed about it. Could not wrest it from my thoughts.

And so, finally, on the night of the tenth day, despite the cold and the fatigue, I fought the lack of central heating to product a tremendous erection. It was positively leaking fluid from the moment of I began to gently stroke up and down, reveling in the intensity of response, a degree of sensitivity almost narcotic in depth.

I wish I could tell you what I was thinking, but I simply do not recall. It was likely Carol. She was irresistible. Nor do I recall how long it took to orgasm or if I even bothered to edge. All I know was that I desperately sought to relieve the pressure in my testicles. It was as if my genitals were on autopilot, steadily and irrevocably driving me toward the brink of orgasm. Instead of animal desire, it was actually apprehension about the impending event that gripped me - how intense was this going to be?

Orgasm started from somewhere deep within and refused to limit itself to my groin. It flooded and overran my body with a profound wave of tingling and heat. I gasped as it surged over me and threw my head back.

The main event? The ejaculation itself was the strangest thing experienced before or since. Perhaps because of the build-up of fluid, I actually started before the orgasm, continuing all through it. The volume and distance were cosmic. 'Normal' in endowment, I had suddenly become Peter North. Long, thick ropes of semen were spurting out with no sign of pause. There must have been eight or ten strong and deep pulsations. The ejaculation was so long and intense that I clearly remember becoming annoyed with it. I mean, after ten seconds I was still going and I really wanted the damn thing to stop!

It finally did. And I dropped back into bed, my head collapsing on the pillow. Some minutes later I pondered how I was going to clean up the mess. There was so much fluid on my chest that I couldn't get up without it running everywhere. It did anyway.

Following an extensive cleaning, I returned to bed and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep almost immediately.

That, my friends, was one glorious and long overdue session. I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I did recalling it!